A Rare Moment - Spanky and Pepper

When I reflect on my life, particularly in light of all the places I’ve lived, I have to admit that many of the decisions I’ve made were arrived at as being in the best interest of my dog. I am someone who now recognizes people I see out in the world and then, before I greet them, realize that they simply resemble someone I knew somewhere else. The first time this happened it started me pondering my absence of roots in the world. Then I go home, a place I like to be, and there is Spanky.

Spanky has been Spanky for all the years. He looks the same; he behaves the same; he is my shadow. As we’ve moved from place to place I always thought, “How would Spanky get along here?” “What would our daily walks be like?” “Is there at least a window he can look out to see his world?” “What is here that would interest him? Squirrels?” Squirrels are very high on the interest list. Other dog friends? It’s always nice when that happens. Grass is a plus; sidewalks and peace. He prefers it when all is at peace.

Several moves back we went to Brooklyn. There were many things to consider when looking for a place to live, cost being the most important. In the end I chose a huge apartment building where hundreds of people resided like an ant hill, in a fourth floor walk up that sat right next to the Q train tracks. But for all the concessions – the stairs, the noise and my neighbor, Jacqui, who enjoyed her toxic cocktails and had screaming fights with her ex husband in the hall wielding a knife, I’d taken the apartment because of Spanky.

Our building was a block’s walk from a neighborhood that is one of the most attractive in Brooklyn. Extremely large, sumptuous houses with pristine lawns and gardens, built in the early part of the twentieth century line several streets of Ditmas Park. As Spanky and I walked there wasn’t a week went by that a film crew wasn’t situated somewhere in the picturesque neighborhood. The area was featured in a movie that came out that year, The Squid and the Whale. When I first looked at the apartment I knew this was Spanky’s ‘hood.

Fast-forwarding to the present, my cottage here in Oregon is in a quiet older neighborhood and has a lovely fenced back yard. This would be a wonderful place for Spanky to relax in the plum perfect Oregon summer. Sitting outside listening to the birds and watching the squirrels hop along the fence seemed ideal for my mature gentleman.

But Spanky has never had a place to lounge outside. He prefers to have a lie down on the bed. No sooner does he relieve himself in the yard that he isn’t back inside, unless coerced by one of the twisted sisters, Cinnamon and Pepper. Spanky is a house dog. It has always been thus.

We don’t live in a world where a dog patrols his territory door to door anymore. If they do they’re picked up by the authorities, stolen or hit by a car. Dogs left in yards all day are considered nuisances with their barking and their anger at being left in a yard all day.

Ostensibly all dogs like us better and prefer to be near us more than hanging out in a yard, unless they’ve been raised on a farm. Someday Spanky and I may evolve to a more open farm type of setting, but I bet he will want to be in the house and at peace even then. My shadow stays closer with every move and each passing year.

We still have our leisurely twice a day walks where he enjoys leaving a reminder of his omniscience on everything he can hit. There is plenty of grass and a multitude of very smart alecky squirrels. But when all is said and done, Spanky prefers the soft mattress and his dreams of finally chasing down one of those smart aleck stinkers. As with humans, his dreams are as alive and pleasant as reality and remain something to aspire to.

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